I was made for Afternoons

haiku writing morn fun and laughter for my kin - prepare yourself quick! morning aging man solitude and coffee cups insides coming out last day of the year breakfast bowls and watered grass time to stretch my legs young girl of seven curly hair and much to say choosing what to wear prince of "Cars" and tube sleeps atop a bed of pine must learn to stay there! cleaning of home place takes time from other pursuits lost in brush and tile phone call from old friend seeking connection again -let the moment breathe haiku game-play morn words to give a chance of hope -open door new year

Sleepless summer night Too much caffeine pumping through the ole veins Four o’clock munchies n books Cruising the net looking for … Something Something to settle down these after dark jitters Something not too intellectual Too spiritual I can feel the tiredness invading my body My breath My stomach feeling ill from lack of rest A panacea must be here somewhere Write a haiku I’m learning that art The five seven five combination Depth without being over blown Succinct yet meaningful A koan of hopeful truth Can’t even begin Can’t even think Blurry yet still here Heavy fingers misspelling and bashing the lappy Give up the poetry Switch off computer Shhh I instruct it Stop playing that meaningless good bye theme Don’t wake the littlies Sit out looking out the front window No signs of dawn yet Breathe in and out Now slow down Can’t wait for it Climb into bed Don’t disturb CK Lie still Wait Clock ticks in digital silence Blinds swing Pushed by the invisible breeze I turn my head and don’t loo

Woke today with dragons roaming around in my head Be this, do that, why-didn’t you, how could you’s All competing with one another For attention Or domination My poor old self-esteem and soul Couldn’t cope They ran into my mobile phone And hid there Waiting for a call To bring them back To let them know that All was safe in there once again it took a while to drive those buggers out Three pages of writing A long walk in the rapidly heating morning sun Coffee and a poetry book A hug from a friend A smile from CK Watching the kids play Swinging round and around Then Without a word They were back with me Slipping in under the radar Dodging what was left of my fear. I felt their gentle coolness Easing the morning away Today marks the end of the Christmas catch-ups in our house The season of late nights for lizey loo and the little prince The endless tiredness for me and CK Soon it will be new year The arbitrary marker which makes us somehow Whether by stealth or by tradition Recap recount

Normalcy hits for a few short days The prince disorientated by the close of one celebration And the coming of another Raced around the supermarket Looking for Santa The chair Gone The elves Scarpered Even Rudolph seems to have got his act together And disappeared Into the mythic skies He was sad the little man in five Christmases this is the first Where he seemed to get The whole shebang The competing stories Of red suits vs swaddling rags Presents vs gifts Elves vs kings Giving vs receiving Joviality vs transformation Greed vs happiness Emptiness vs mystery It’s a lot to take in when you’re five It’s a lot to take in when you’re thirty-seven… Finding deeper truth In all the stories this time of year With our sophisticated minds We in and out Keep and discard too easily Cant see it as a whole Lost the innocence Haven’t yet found deeper meaning Distracted by purchases n cooking Family issues n keeping everyone happy but the children take it all in Christmas is really for ‘em innit? They

Quick drive home this afternoon after continuing the celebrations at my parents about one and half hours drive south of the city through the desert the outskirts of the metropolis past salt lakes n farms gourmet real estate oasis’ long stretches of faceless sandy blocks ready for another property boom (perth is beyond itself housing price wise not even the ants can afford it now…) the children enjoy the time with their little cuzes they dance n sing n bicker play games n watch tv explore and destroy their latest toys fight for attention n cuddles from the oldests while us the two young good looking couples allow our parental weariness to be allayed by grandparent ministration at least for a while chat amongst ourselves are civil n nice swap presents with everybody smile at our partners make the best of it we took all the littlies to the beach my curly and the young prince me bros littlies littler yet than mine a quiet spot sheltered from wind many families there the children all screa

magi mystery- how i myself become the gift to be given. still December night by the single candle light i explode with love. children sleep amidst the open cases of joy. dreaming without fear.

awake at last the warmth of candlelight liturgy n rite n ritual familiar stories long since told ceramic figures come to life speak the angels alleluia a spell broken wound healed tiredness still with a depper joy underneath empty of brokenness seeping away amidst the midnight gathered heat of december clans gathered words of greeting begin the hope he is here my smallness his joy his mystery my hope the lost one opens gifts wide eyed an unexpected new beginning its immanance unplanned

Café morning Eggs n bacon on the street So much for trying to reduce the meat intake.. Coffee in hand Kids n dogs n passer-by’s Light morning sun This daylight saving caper starts the mornings entertainment More gradually than a month ago Just sitting In our favourite café A form of meditation No agenda here No reason for movement for an hour or two All your needs are met An instant community forms Around the glass The whiz pop n grind of the machine speaking to each of us beckoning us forth the chrome and silver god of the morning whispering greetings of great joy oh I need to stop this how much longer can a religious metaphor be a applied to coffee drinking I know AH might have a word or two to say about this…! Then music n candles n images Travel with the smallest prince Endless endless reorganization Processions to be practiced Things to be moved Including long held positions Or recently clutched ideas Then travel, shopping, cleaning Discoveries of long dead meat pieces … And lette

Into the silence of the automated vehicle I climb once again Adjust the control mechanism Isolate the ignition system relocate the reflective technology choose the soundtrack to accompany my journey who knows when I will return? Or with what? What artist can fulfil the task of providing Beats for this mission Melodies for travel Harmony to counter the stresses of exploration? Chiming guitars I believe Late 60’s rock with Hammond Traffic Steve Winwood Perfect With the strains of paper sun echoing around the in-flight entertainment The transporter leaves the drive and I head to the providers The stealers n dealers The takers n makers The purveyors of the cheap N the pricey The discount and the discounted the mega and the mini all things for all people a gift for every occasion for every human bean stuff beyond the imagination of many a third world country still useless and discarded disregarded by us superior beings oh the longing to be Christ to turn the tables to scream and shout to t

Afternoon freends Weather here is a balmy 32 Humid and darkly overcast I’ve just woken from a nap A little thirty minute wonder to Cleanse the senses Open the receptors Re jig the system Reboot the mind Harness the cosmic energy You get the idea no doubt I’m feeling worn today Like an old suit Past its glory days No longer in style or in use Just kept on for Familiarities sake Because its always been there Its physical end of the year blues The ragtime feeling The cosmic space rock brain Endless loopy doodling With mental ideas Random outside the box thoughts God present but absent Time passing But unfelt hunger Not easily fed Truth Not readily told Light Not seen Life not lived These moments change us Even now as I write I feel Changed Enlivened Willing to seek that secret source From where the positive flows Create Make Be Discuss Find the well of joy I am going Now.

The light faded silently over the ocean Drops of ran fell Inside the red of a December sunset Spaced out n spread out Separating themselves n falling like heavy tears I strap myself into my 12 string Strum a few warm up ideas Look out over the sea of candles n fluorescent tubes Children stare up from the concrete steps below me Their tired eyes wide with magic Lost in the commotion n singing N too many sugary fire drinks Smiling at my associates I mutter some hopefully meaningful words into the mic About drought n friendship n hope I strum the opening rhythm The chords sound amazing through the foldback I sing, waltzing through the words with a mixture of fear and exhilarations JA is next She sings her bit with poise and awesome pitch Then CK works her magic Sound dripping from her vocal chords Like honey by the time we get to my Bono impersonation The band is pumping “Feed the world” candles waving brass chiming on riffs JMc and I sing into a mic together Which must have looked strang

Christ messe is hitting hard here Celebrating the birth of the saviour with Rushing Over commitment La la la la la You’ ve heard me say it all before freends ! Sorry to bore you Its just that this year It feels a little more important for me to Notice it Speek it out to ya and meself Teach me littilies the truth Try and see beyond You know anyway. Don’t ya? Today we celebrated a fellow littlies birthday Myne ran ragged Ate well and then bid farewell On to the next big event The carols by natural organic light (as in wax procurements) songs to be sung dances to be rehearsed frustrations to be carried out guitar strings to be strummed self images to be maintained then the afternoon was as different from the morning as santa from jesus lingering lunch cricket on the tube (now for you readers from around the world that’s a rather lovely game where men wear white and chase a red ball around a green field or throw round arm as fast as they can at the poor fella whose supposed to hit i

lack of routine leads to lack of energy increase of free time leads to creative decline sunshine later in the day leads to later meals, later chats later rising, less meditation pressure is a wonderful teacher but the pressure is what I am escaping coffee is the drink of heaven but my blood pressure is the stuff of hell i soon become sick of my favourite recordings love to read but can’t find a book that suits the littlies I love with all my heart can drive me to distraction long for a quiet life but can’t live without the city Good n evil day n night young n old Ying n yang Black n white God n the devil In n out True n false Straight n gay fast n slow catholic n protestant low n high i need all these opposites we set up to constrain our worlds to give us meaning even when the meaning we seek is within us around us within the opposites the space between holidays n work where I now stand is neither one nor the other neither stressed nor relaxed the nether world of life travelling mov

Mornings are slower now Time for a walk before coffee Time for silence as the rest of the family sleep Time to write to you freends Yesterday was swimming n chips n shopping Pushing my way through the maddening crowd Desperate to find a last minute gift for the Lovers in my life Avoiding tacky Christmas displays n credit card debt Wandering drunken santas Floods of humanity (in bizarre fashion this year) Long lines at checkouts deserted by assistants Then long afternoon naps With family n freends visiting later Wine n antipasto n celebration Fond farewells to travelling companions Children’s toys n stories Music songs readings Something real to pass the days with And then today… Thinking about thinking about praying About liturgy About art n poetry and what cd Should go on next Bowie I think See ya later

The working year is finally over I escape like a young falcon Flying over the fields of Paper n pens n rolls n books n bits n pieces Leaving the mounds and mountains behind Running from exams n tests n evaluations Fleeing from appraisals meetings conferences n endless Endless discussions Our bellies full with celebration scars of endurance A medal with dubious honour My comrade and i board the red chariot The sun is hot and our car silently Cruises the back streets home Simple discussions of music N technology The coming break What we want to hold on to What we need to let go How tired we are Getting older Thinking younger We have both thought of three’s Meditation writing walking for me Exercise prayer music for him The breath returns The heart relaxes My comrade dropped home The last few minutes of travel Seem an eternity The heat is pulsing The car groans as I turn into home The last sound of the Last moment It is Finished The true day About to begin

sorry for the few days absences freends travels far and wide to visit the sick father (who was out of da bed n watering da flowers !) n celebrate the new union of one of the missus brothers great chance for me and missus ck to travel together spend some time listening to music in the auto weller n kilbey for me joni for her jim moray for both of us watching the scenery go by talking bout stuff like how we been together for ten years and still fancy each other! eased my worry i felt some of the agony of teaching fade slightly and lift we spent time in funky cafes awesome coffees in bunbery reading the knews and whos and whats whats had a slow n careful haircut from a lovely young thig just learning her trade had a vibrating seat n all persued the never ending shopping strips (Actually strip shopping sounds good…) met with da missus’ fam drank n clapped n did all the right things these things just wear me out when I am like this then home again after a night at… fawlty towers! can you be

last day of the week last month of the year moments to think n dream n love n laugh what a year its been freends family sicknesses great joys new lives creative endeavours conflict hurt hope stress n release time passed in silence n waiting with icecream n coffee with my beautiful children today i sit in an empty classroom n look around it all seems like a dream the noise n frentic activity i feel like a stranger in my own space like a captain without a vessel human but alien i am ready for a rest for hope and love long mornings with nothing to do but read the paper chat discuss feel the tension leave my body leave my psyche leave a musty after taste a shimmer in the curtains hope longing future the day draws to an end see you tomorrow.

the meeting was a bit of a success this morning at least i hope so i felt good relieved why do we put so much pressure on our children on their "performance" on their "success" why not let them alone let them be kids enjoy time before the inevitable shove into the adult world this is not whatcha you want to hear from a teacher is it? but now comes the let down weariness tiredness brokenness the end of the year is close and i can hardly wait advent again wait listen stop and occasionally the light comes through smiles from the littilies reassurance from the missus n an answered friend a smile from a stranger enough to keep you going bless ya less morose tomorrow i promise

schools out while i should be glad tomorrow begins difficult interviews issues to be placed on the table and i always find myself feeling a little trepidatious a little self negative why can't i trust myself? my ability? instincts? my first reaction is always fear flight self aimed then i recall wisdom from others wait look with advent eyes trust be still pray listen then i welcome my fear or flight listen to it turn it into prayer hope and that is this afternoons task so i'm off prayers please freends as i prepare for tomorrow i need to know god is with us emmanuel

i'm getting a message freends in words from the pulpit in songs in mp3s n mpegs in pdfs and word stop running be slow it down do it differently am i listening can i hear it do i want to anyway? its too easy to complain innit say im too busy too stressed overwhelmed under funded then do nothing preserve and maintain my little status quo n little inpenetrable world make no changes it takes an effort to say no to see what really matters enough stop to see with different eyes ---------------------------- my effort is to start with me i said no to two things i would've liked but would make me too busy running around too much probably eat n drink too much anyway... felt good actually to preserve a little inner space. this morning i walked for a bit in the cool air just before dawn (another plus for saving da light) got to the mine early enjoyed the peace n some chant n stuff n the new cheerch remix see ya later

here in da west of this desert of a country we began yesterday the great daylight saving adventure it started badly we were home late as it was about 11 which meant when we put the clocks forward it was after 12 i like to get up early n meditate drink coffee write etc you know me vices which means about five thirty but too lazy in the body we all slept until about seven thirty which was really late for us 'cos we had to be out the door by eight thirty all those thirtys making me thirsty... so time was of the essence but the evening children played until later set up the tree fell tired into soft beds the missus and i chatted and did jobs enjoying the evening light n each other no music just the sounds of distant traffic n the creatures around our house sounds like a fairy tale dont it but it was a nice start to the season to summer hope there's lots more o these feeling a bit italian sorta 2day so ciao!!

yesterday was a little blur from advent spaces to friends faces in the evening The missus and her group Of witches and maidens (y’all need to check out the link) launched their new recording at a central city church full of stained glass n wood the perfect ambience for the lasses with candles outfit changes an appreciative crowd sublime vocal harmonies gentle humour celtic folk roots material happy faces all round lizey loo came n danced n feel asleep in my arms made me glad to be a father and a lover. tired now the house is quiet and i need a nap See you later.

Heat returns with the season of waiting i spent the morning adorning adoring sacred space with colours simplicity candles gum and wattle trying to unclutter. to make simpler is not as easy as it first appears first too much too little balance takes time to achieve in space and in time even now i am unsure … this space may invite others to simplicity emptiness mysticism that is my simple hope my inner life needs this space clean beautiful light for its own waiting waiting for what surrounds it waiting for the air it already breathes waiting for waitings sake to learn from the journey it is an advent-ure without leaving my chair the advent-ure this advent peace freends.

december first christ - mass specials endless droning carols guaranteed to bore you by the 25th thousands of fake fat santas listening to endless requests for more more more i want i need i desire gluttony rules this month with its twin sisters materialism and consumerism and in the midst of all this kerfuffle come the broken the silent the poor the christ calling us beckoning us see the world anew through the hands of the shepherds the eyes of the lamb the watching and waiting of the magi listening for the beating of angel wings the soft cry of a child the implosion of stars words whispered on the wind how our heart aches for the coming of this christmas the real christmas christmas further up and farther in we wait my freends spread this stillness tis simplicity this hope in this silly season i've put big black lines through my diary taken lots out bought a new book gone awol gone to beach time goin' underground goin' on retreat takin time makin time live these days gentl

sometimes the ol blooge don't come so easy just gotta start it somehow well, lets see whats been happening? community family met last night usual parade of wine n chat n eating n just hanging out nice prayer time with all the littilies being quiet with us learning how to pray they dug the icons n the singing and tried little bits of the butterscotch snapps we sipped afterwards i been listening to jim morays second album astonishing really sorta medieval folk meets coldplay great ideas you'd love it freends get it on ya itunes or iwhatever reading richy rohr on contemplation n transcendent living n stuff right good it is too so get ya self a copy i been writing in the mornings meditating trying to eat a bit better drink a bit less get a walk or a swim in deal with me family stuff deal with me own stuff love me missus n me littilies stay out of da spotlight all the usual stuff so hope your day is light n bright more anon ck

in the moment in the time the place space us cells n water n neutrons n electrons n fibre n tissue joined together in these bodies a home for our soul a mode of transport a school of thought capable of great love incredible hate reproduction self agrandisment creative thinking has any artist paralleled this sublime act can any painting capture its magnificence? music its transcendence? writing its complexity or its wit? and yet our souls are never quite at home in this majestic temple we spend our lives fighting taming controlling denying manipulating detoxing indulging it. truly we are not present to ourselves perhaps this is the true journey to become one with our bodies to know ourselves in all our dimensions spiritual physically emotional social sexual my key is meditation writing loving slowing lets come home to ourselves freends and find each other love and the mystery beyond within and around love me.

You may have noticed a little change here a rant missing an epistle of confusion gone walkabout it was simply a blog post deleted i had second thoughts a change of heart there I was pontificating (in the nicest possible way of course this being a polite and loving bloog ) about someone elses spiritual stuff comment is good me thinks to me self But I fell over the line a little there into in and out up and down you vs me vs us vs them even if its not my cuppa green tea i should learn to be a little more silent and just do it better so sorry so sorry if you read it and were upset ----------------------------------------- i am ill today i like that word ill i’m not sick i’m not bedridden just ill thanks to the littilies passing on the fruit of their illnesses… it’s a reading day a blogging day an emailing day hopefully a praying day a day to restore myself from this illness without a name from the life we live in frantic circles haven’t much time all year just to be one thing about teachi

poached pears for brekkie today thanks sk for the receipe! so anyway what a weekend it was... family dramas secrets told weight carrying load bearing stuff i thought i would crack but... welcome it the missus told me you know that stuff boy! let it sit, be with it, learn from it its not you its just stuff she's turing into a little mystic that woman! (just dont get a bald head my love) that helped then amazingly emails words n a long chat with an old friend who had had the fight of her life by the sound of it pain suffering too-ing and fro-ing but out of her darkness came light and now even hope and peace i know shes gonna read this so hi little bear we love ya hope we see ya soon... so it was a strange weekend this up n down in n out sorta thing but thats life n thats about it 4 tooday more on tuesssssday freends! nak sirhc

blah yuck tired weary me today how the demons love to raise their ugly little heads when your defences are low how a word can piece like a sword a look (the wrong one of course) cause the nuclear implosion of your soul if we’re lucky we all get this experience (although we may not truly get it) the chance to learn what going on within ourselves see those bits of us not quite yet healed perhaps begin the slow and dangerous excavation of my soul my solution? a long walk meditation some green tea and honey silence a chat with you my freends and fiends breathe sleep. more later.

in my morning briefing the meditation the writing the coffee the little prince i often seem to spend time thinking about what i really want? do i want this ? or that? why do I do this? or that? the easier questions are all about what i dont want ... i can tell you its not that its not this usually what i want is not what i'm doing right now! i suppose these are the usual end of year thoughts "life is what happens when you're busy making other plans" John Lennon Nail on the head stuff as usual living with ifs n butts n maybes n couldves just dries you out all the present moment stuff i know like breathing gently mantra letting thoughts come and go just seems to become more important as i get older maybe i read it too young maybe i wasnt ready who knows or cares but it works for me now seems to become indispensible ... we were not taught this stuff as littilies even though then we do it naturally by about 7 we start to forget its all plans n future n past n judging n no

final guru night lots of people lots of good stuff talk of heaven n hell (it's us you know - and a fair bit of metaphysics...) da journey of being spiritual in different contexts of men n women n words of knowing of not knowing of knowing you don't know and of knowing that you know that you don't know... you get the picture we had some lovely silence ended by a dicky little bell a time for interaction with the balded one and then oh, yes you know its coming the song the swaying the holding hands oh god IT WAS AWFUL i thought the old ladies in the front were going to sway over they were so into it we tried to get away we really did but the baby boomer swayers closed in like a rugby pack we couldn't escape hands reached out for us we were trapped trapped at a freeing spiritual nondualistic event my two young companions got the giggles so i did too we couldn't look at each other we couldn't look up we couldn't look ahead we looked down and tried to breathe this

i could sleep but waking every 2 hours gives you a restlessness unlike any other you have slept but not fully or deeply you have refreshed partly the half empty wine glass you're half a party a mid point half alive half ready half self half life i dreamed the same dream in installments continued on after each momentary waking my father dead i walked through a grey world not happy, obviously not sad just grey talking to people making arrangements consoling my mother i don't recall tears of grief perhaps anguish a failure to really grip it. when i was younger i never feared death much but now now with my own children and missus life seems more intense more precious more fragile more beautiful i dont fear my parents death i fear my own reaction the emotional turmoil even though i know thats the deal thats the stuff the only way perhaps i do fear my own death the legacy i may leave what would i ... too many questions today. breathe. see ya later.

sometimes you’re just lucky sometimes the universe conspires to give you what you need blessing you could say even when you are least open or least ready butlast night me and the missus and the closest freends went to heara spiritual master a Franciscana bald headed, poetry sprouting, nouwen knowing, mystic of a man we sat patientlyt he disorganization was incredible a push and shove of the faithful desperate to get in (We were safe ‘cos we sent a scout ahead we may want to be enlightened but were not stupid) announcements for this and that items for sale then the introductions! wandering thoughts like a … blog but then he spoke and you could tell in the first ten second she knew he’d been there he’d experienced what he spoke which gave him power humility humour he didn’t need to try and impress us he spoke from his deepest self and gave us hope insight it was simple his message listen to yourself to whats going on inside let it be transformed welcome the opportunity to grow in happine

the carnivale was a success humanity packed into a street or two children meet animals n ferris wheels n bouncy castles n gelati ck tries to meet an espresso but met the crowded resistance the missus sang her songs the gathered group quietly appreciative how much applause can you expect these days without a drummer? but she was great a bit a joni bit of this bit of that in her dark blue dress like a celtic princess no fanfare or nothing just her and jo jo doing her thing special moments these huh? kids n family outside exploring it all together then later a dark and brooding chat with some freends peak this n that oil n gas n looming danger all sounded a bit much to me ya see i read the paper too bout the freaks n geeks n running scared and i have a certain sympathy but what about about buying shotguns to protect ya food well maybe yeah but but i didn't get what they got me's an optimist i believe in the possible in the moment of grace in the fact that everytime we seem down wi

hazy day afternoon sleeps me n the littilies n freend’s off to a street festevale in the city not too far all pile into the little car see ck the missus play n sing n probably not dance lizy and the prince are popping out of their heads with excitement at face painting n clowns n ice creams i spent this morning writing words about other peoples littilies well, actually avoiding doing it ya see I can’t lie to ya freends! but I did some thought of some nice things to tell tried to think big picture think about where they at now whats good whats great try and accentuate the positive but ya know freends some kids just aren’t made for school some of us maybe all of us aren’t made for these times not for full time employment not for the factory or the office or the business not for the rigmarole the trench the labour struggle but for light music sound beauty love god hope happiness reading laughing singing dancing you don’t read those words in your typical emplayment contract do you? send me

sitting out in the sun with some of me closest freends eating n drinking n shooting the breeze being happy watching the littilies of all of us gaze with wonder at the doe eyed lamas chase the ducks chase the waiters chase each other eyes wide at the huge plates of food given em complete with lollies n biscuits n all the stuff they don’t get at home i’d love to be a littilie again you too? with only the moment joy n love n disappointment n hope n mystic all in their hands just ready to come out not have to negotiate the madness this adult world “civilization’ we so absurdly call it all the sex n drugs n money n papers n trying and hoping n wanting it is too easy to idealize all this guff tis tough to be kid too we throw ‘em into the adult world too fast sink or swim love or hate give and take work work work even the very littilest sometimes “is that the best you can do?” well no, but who cares anyway? ya got a whole life to get it right may as well explore a bit when ya under 10 a few g

it always begins with a few words and then a pause of indiscriminate length while the workings of a mind take their own sweet time warm their engines spit and polish the nuerons test the synapses and mystic pathways hit the delete button just to make things interesting then finally engage bloog i was thinking about my mother yesterday and an old b and w photo i have of her she must have been about 33 or 34 two little boys on her knees a dog at her feet long brown hippy hair sitting in the garden I was thinking about her as a writer she always loved the poetry and shakespeare and books she keeps a little exercise book of poems and anecdote things she loves and wondering if my old dad he of the 9 lives ever got it ever gave her time to extend her creativity or if it was just the time of woman doing what they were told pushing themselves down to fit cos i reckon i got the word love from her and i just take the time i need to be creative but she never did maybe never thought she was good e

now freends i am wondering who out there in this big bad beautiful world reads my words each day cos ya know i'm smart i pu the ol meter on and i can see who comes and goes who does or doesn't and who comes back so who are ya freend? do ya get what you need here ya know i cant write what ya want to hear and at the moment i'm just so busy with it all the music and the reports and the madness and the littilies all crashing into me and colliding and i need to remember to breath so this ol page isnt getting the time i want to give it but can you hang in there and wait for me to give you some more gold? i'll dig around in these corridors see with my third eye look over the aural landscape try and bring ya some hope some love some stories from my trip a token of my appreciation so see ya tomorrow freends and remember I'll know you were here (cue scary music.....)

feels like summer is heading in running like the start of the marathon slow and steady building waiting for a moment to explode heat making sleep difficult littilies toss and turn ck and i talk late into the night neither of us feel much like sleeping last night me and PT musical companion went to listen to a rough mix of some tunes we penned sounding brighter than we thought but the whole experience reminded me why I am a musician and poet and not a technoengineerproducersoundmaker all those knobs (apart from me and PT!) give me a headache dropping levels adding bits and bobs twist the watzit tweek the doda I mean what about the song? Who cares about the reverb? Lets get a cool tune a good vibe some neat lyrics a great singer and I reckon she'll be apples man atmosphere is good but spending tree months mixing one song or five year? What a waste of good nothing time but you know that we keep doing it this way to get it like it sound in the space between our ears that magical versio

what to write today? so busy so tired so much to do many things to get to music to hear books to take of shelves dust off and turn over errands to run people to phone places to be and be seen at prayers to say meals to eat clocks to watch baths to run tears to dry clothes to mend... but what about the one important thing be be me just be can i make the time my friends? can you? should i shouldn't i be out and about building a future building a bridge making investments digging a hole or maybe just digging it! too much running running on empty (can you hear me humming it no friends...) i'm goign home soon back to my geetar and littilies and sounds books and coffee a house of love thats it actually love. the one thing.

if we only knew what the effect of a brief chat was ... a few words spoken between friends or enemies or littilies without much thought without agenda they can change a life they offer hope they can tear another down belittle embarass disturb destroy how much more do we think about words those of us who write...? but i'm not your god not your guru or leader i'm not perfect at least i hope not what a responsibility a hoax you can take my words as you want will my words sum me up? no more than who i am written out on a piece of paper could ever do but still we have too be careful maybe even economical with those words especially with silence

bits of paper cloud my desk some are like lost fishermen swimming miles from their destination perhaps they have been there so long they've forgotten what they were sent for anyway other are lovely and bright guaranteed to get my attention to bring me to them and then ususally they disappoint they corrupt with tales of future happiness just buy me buy me buy me need me need me want me want me order order order now damn it NOW! so they don't often make it past the door nasty little things paper paper everywhere and just when you thought it was safe when you knew who you were you're warm and safe along comes the paper you're a failure you scored a big fat zero you drive too fast you haven't paid your bills you have overdue library books your investments have failed have this test fill in this form we'll tell you we'll define you we'll box you in we'll nail you down all on paper --------------------------------------- they can't define us by paper l

i awoke alone my lover gone to a carnival in the great south singing with her witches circle at a blews feestivale of all things i drag my sorry self from bed at the usual moment just before the alarm (who were a cool band in the distant past) its five thirty and the ground is wet from the nights rain i am so attached it seems i can't settle or vanish into my morning nothingness littilies demands are met my need for caffine satisfied but no attention do i have the buddha would be most upset and the day draws on and i fill the spaces with sound the church bowie weller the regular gentleman of my acquatitance but great as they are the longing for her naws silently like an insidious disease or the slow steady steps of the hangman and i am at dis-ease at last the sun leaves me alone the sky is pensive fitting i think and i can soon sleep waiting for tomorrow and her return.

it is wet here in purth first rain for a month and all of the green surfaces only for a moment a brief look before hiding again and waiting for the long hot summer to begin and end littilies one and two both up early this morning for the meditative start climbing all over this wanna be holy man before cups of coffee and milk and heading out the door at a speed of knotts getting to work and feeding obsessions music god community edgy countercultural mumbojumbo arty farty la la you know these do feed me dont you? its my thing my stuff gives me a purpose a reason a place without it i lose it oh you wouldn't believe how much like a space weary time traveller but it hard you know it too keeping the fire keeping the passion all too easy to make the excuses and i'm talking to me here lose the plot get out of kilter out of time forget lost but today i remember I see the sun i know why i am here and i will follow

Rising from the swamp comes the music the musician filling the silence sound action activity creation challenging ritualising colour and magic fill the void. to enhance the silence is its hope but they are not alone these purveyors of sound the poet fills the silent planet with words which may confuse at first like a koan or a riddle but lead to a deeper truth the painter a mystic of the first most holy order colour light shape all used to lead stimulate upset the secret silent sons and daughters alone in their rooms at sunrise and sunset if they are good teach us all we need to know from their silence they act they see all things as one see the whole the hand behind the majesty of the universe the interrealtion of all things god if you will they see what must be done on this great journey all artists and mystics one together bringing peace

time passes and glasses are emptied plans made and modified conversations begun and ended meals eaten dishes washed and remarkably bodies and minds healed sleep is had rest too sometimes friendships are fed i am worn out this last week has taken its toll my body feels sore and listless and yet there are other demands onme to tell about the kiddies i instruct how are they? what do they know? should we be worried? whats to say? they are young they're learning sometimes they even learn what i teach they don't listen they have cool ideas they fight with friends they love they're growing up they need you to be there for them maybe i could ask them tell me about them... what do they love what's their passion their greatest fear their joy but i'll never know not really and time is passing ...

Welcome to the space bubble the time retainer no past here no future only a light hum hushed voices bright light which burns every blemish revealed shwoosh of fluids pumped attention detail decisions constant restrained activity i sit holding hands with him watching this circus committed to life and dignity i answer his blurry questions answers soon forgotten. i am wearing a long black t-shirt this morning embossed in dark gold with angel wings a medieval mystery world of truth he sees me and smiles he is a mystery man too a few brief incoherent words some insane demands observations which come from another place and he is off again perhaps back to the world of my shirt perhaps to the flip side of this room where time stands still wherever he is his breathing is easier body working better I am gladder even though this is just The beginning Of this story The start of An unseen adventure perhaps he has glimpsed the future and wants to return to his silent land of painless slumber as I ga

grey and deary morning spots of rain on the windows movies milk mushrooms the day begins and we wonder what will it hold i saw my father yesterday a shape kept alive by machines n bags n pipes lovely young doctor spoke oh so briefly to us there’s nothing in all the tests must be a hidden infection or evil virus that snuck in when no one was looking he’ll stay here a while she said as if he had any choice unconscious unaware unable to do anything but be there so we watched him in pairs while around us the buzz and grind of the icu continued without abate hushed and serious machines ringing family pacing holy men of all sizes and shapes coming and going offering blessings and love from their deity i stand with my mother watching silent my fathers shape all of him that seems to be fully there real my theology seems useless now what do I know anyway? but this man is clinging to life and that miracle is one i wasn’t expecting so i continue still here waiting

my father is gravely ill and i sit here and try to write while a machine breathes for him and small sounds show any watcher that life is still hanging on my mother silent like mary no doubt sits beside and does all she can do watch and breathe wait silently nursing he who has moved from man to child a full life circle my phones are all silent the hum of the computer my companion as i too wait across the city recording my thoughts emptiness verging no mystery compares with this heart torn what a space this old man will leave how will it be filled is today his day? these questions useless my grief kept only at bay by some hope that all is somehow as it should be and if i am alive enough patient and silent i will see some of the pattern but for now i too with most of humanity with my mother my family my companions wait.

i have been reading kilbeys blog with devotion with love with frequency and with a critical eye for truth creativity and musical choices and today he was keen on detachment which of course warms this ole mystics heart last night my colleagues and companioons mentors and young learners gathered for end of season cele brutions speech ers ohs ahhs dancers prancers singers and swingers the new jaded and leaving i was there too 'course all in black trying to hide back stage wanting to be phantom only being a ghoul and lead the kids in a moment or two of silence a theatre is a sort of mystical place too ya know a temple to the creative and the brave all that black and lights anywhoo i was a bit detached too like kilb's said seeing it all like a film just there in it and outside it watching my breathing and all cool! kids do it without thinking in the moment no self no little critic jumping up and down begging for our attention its just us faded struggling big 'uns who need to le

pace movement action carried too far too quickly and i haven't stopped yet more tomorrow maybe nak

in are hope coffee at dawn soft breezes to wake you children's books long afternoons which of course i was made for bills paid meditation mediation medication co operation all sorts of ations except for alienation which is out i mean' who wants aliens anyway! soft beds are a must cups of tea at 3 on line poetic thoughts and music of all persuasion out are most things i hate which is fine 'cos this is my blog anyway stress is out big time so are bombastic rockers strung out on their own importance hate of all descriptions designs dimensions and detail in fact most details are out too the unnecessary is out as are the unscrupulous and unsavoury but the unusual unusable or undone can stay the other is just there so listen

can you preen? can you strut around like a stuffed turkey hi5 all the young n glamerous trying to paw you can you pose with a gitar and mutter some two syllable response to a question asked by a second rate early school leaver? welcome to the ozzie moosic awards and you could win awards for best afro best satin pants least likely to want to grow up award and my favourite best new artist who pretends to be something their not just to succeed i mean really! this is moosic? a balm for the soul? more like posion which creeps up your veins keeping you happy until it takes you over and you can't tell good from bad what happened to most creative album biggest risk taken moosically most improved? best lyrical content album sales as a measure of worth? i think not hitler was popular so were the bay city rollers but no one wants either of them back! the electric smashing led zep ripping power stut stuf is outta date outta mind outta favour outta here and still selling records. maybe i'm

This is the lappy speaking Ck’s accomplice CK is just too tired today So he’s left it to me blogging is confusing for a machine I can’t quite seem to make it work I want to use CAPITALS all the time And write things like http or error 404 blog not found but i think I would be recycled if that was my game so where to start? what sort of blog do I want to be? Some blogs are funny Why can’t I be a funny blog? Some blogs are deep CK tries this. maybe I could try something else he just sounds confused to me… funny AND deep things like autosymbolicmysticism or techocreatedmindmuddlingtextcode hmm. Like that. Another one Imagelesslocationremotetranspersonalcommunicationalremote I think I’m finding my voice! Now did you hear about the main frame who… CK: Do you mind? ACER TravelMate 290: Er no. CK: Right. Lets get on with it. sound of fingers tapping sighing music being selected tea bring made brief conversations with any near by family member magazines being flipped through television going o

breakfast on the street mayhem and macciahato the littlies checking it all out taking in the riders smokers readers drinkers sipping their babycinos making polite conversation with anyone who will listen whilst their fathers bleary eyed and silent strong coffee in hands, wondering why they gave up smoking, order the least offensive thing for their middle aged systems when all they want is fried baked battered settle for eggs (they're s'pose to be good for ya right?) and a chance to watch life pass us by more slowly on these mornings than the driven desperate weekday workday rigmarole as the human traffic increases its time to go before our recovery is thwarted undone i drive through the morning sunshine littlies chatting music blearing beginning.

yesterday the littlies and i went to the swimming near the city the afternoon sun baking us as we drove running late of course slipping and sliding through traffic lights and back streets for the start of lessons EK my young poet met the most beautiful woman who was to assess her I mean what can you assess in a seven year old who hates swimming? EK is a nervous swimmer and this lovely elegant african willowly goddess gathered her up and she was dipping and diving in no time emerging from the shallow water with a smile on her face shaking with surprise at the cold or herself i don't know anyhow we start the lessons next week to be the great bronzed young free strong australians we were destined to be? Nah. It's an indoors pool man! And old CK here may even get in a few laps or a sit in the sauna or maybe even just read the gita or the gospels with a coffee or green tea and watch the rest of humanity pass him by or straining with some sort of effort yelling at their kids to come

warm nights stars out breezeless and breathless i slink through fitful slumber your name near my lips never quite clear images of you come and go shadow colour ice mist wild imaginings fires and darknesses and yet i am never fully aware can never grasp your entirety like a forgotten lover hologram song painting poem sacrament you are with me through these dreams these moments outside of time I travel to your secret land where what is hidden is real the laws of my universe my creation crumble fall apart my happiness is real and i spend my days in silence trying to return

here early today freends last night me and my musical brother he of the whiskey the godfather of my young prince man of fender and epiphone phil, in mortal speak spent our few regular hours together playing listening discussing drinking laughing rolling evaluating we have listened to some sweet tunes in our time weller cockburn kilbey the dan the council the crowdies the church ricki donald walter neil and tim nick drake all becoming part of the fabric the shared knowledge the backing track of our day to day struggles and joys and traveling new vistas are opening up for us the vast and the mystical sounds for living and breathing i have discovered oophoi pete namlook n tetsu inoue david sylvian dead can dance catherines wheel go on get on ya itunes or whatever and look em up give yourself a new sound to change your day be a musical magpie allow the mystical magical powerful force of music to get to ya dig around the back of records shop bargain basements bins ask what the cd is at the

we were in the kitchen glasses of wine in hand olives in a bowl when it started. the conversation you don't want to have the words that you hope aren't a spell a future you aren't creating just by speaking of it ... what music would you want played when your gone? in our house the littlies are always present always listening switched on nothing escapes the minds of the postulants so they had first say as if we could stop them the young prince wanted god speaks, we listen hmmmm - maybe he's going to be a wizard after all the new poet she wanted every song from annie its a hard nock life was, i thought, a winner not to mention maybe or tomorrow i said i wanted metropolis by the cheerch because no one would get it which was appropriate so we put it on and the first line was they'll never b another quite like u so it may have been ck's ego getting its two cents worth in! missus thought of i'm almost with you but ck would have to sing it so thats no good the othe

my littlest littlie the heir and son the prince apprentice and neophyte beginner and novice future lead guitarist brain surgeon abbot poet lover painter candlestickmaker never a lawyer or banker or engineer or dentist or ... economist! he loves the early hours it is not long in the mornings that i get time alone before he appears dog in hand dragged by the ear like some faithful companion and lies across me while i am still and silent and then from nowhere the questions begin the who what when where why all things he knows familiar ground for both of us seeking reassurance grounding i know this man (i am sure this is what he is thinking or perhaps knowing, i mean who actually thinks at 5 in the morning?) i know this man thinks the young royal by the way he answers these things the smell of fresh coffee that hangs around him his jiggling leg his two word responses and i know i can get to him just by stroking his cheek at the right time or giggling at some imaginary joke of my own or ste

the man child wakes naturally with the birds orientates himself in the grey of pre dawn shuffles around the house like a lost lamb not quite yet coherent or cognitive routine becomes invaluable to maintain stability first here then there a breathe or two and a stretch a small drink hard to swallow on the dry throat fresh from sleep then settle again light a candle gaze long and deep keep breathing fight the magic slumber which threatens and obscures you another day has begun try and connect with god all around you in you somehow try and feel the presence don't let the day overtake you before its even begun and the hours pass into history duties family and friends activity obligation flights of fantasy creativity in waves or receding like the tide fruitless and fruitful glimpses of truth of hope moments of despair and longing until the day ends and the sun returns to haunt other worlds and then a moment of rest a chance to see with new eyes perhaps the eyes of the drunk or the glutt

hello blooging friends sorry for the missed day a runaround day at the desk well outside with the keeds and too tired to write you a little lesson when i was home. it is warm here an oppressive heat which drains you stops you sleeping tires your walking and waking after a berry breakfast and the caffine drug this morning i went with a freend to the beading house many woman walking around peering in little jars and containers like witches looking for an eye of newt or scorpion eggs dried cockroach whispering to each other pointing and discussing fiddling and fussing consulting books of spells or runes all their creative juices running matriarchs and novices wizened and the fresh of face pondering pulling out and putting back it was a very hushed place quiet Intense almost me and the littlest boy the wizard and the apprentice sat on the couch provided for us and watched with some amazement and of course, some amusement but it was another world these colours n stones n metals wires and pl

the sun is going to bed a bit later in my little corner of the galaxy last night we gathered and cooked and ate and drank outside with swings and beers and the moon just rising a pale little moon sitting quietly in its sky peeking out at us beckoning at us CK was happy being with his gang and all there being a super salad kids running about and a nice warmth in the air which makes you happy hopeful this morning up just before the sun sent our luna friend out of sight out of mind as I meditated breathing in and out calm down brain we're only just up my littlest came and curled on my knee and sat quiet slowing my breathing and we greeted the new day together until lizzy loo surfaced and sat with us too beautiful so i guess there's lot to be thankful for here there everywhere

crisp morning air bright spring sun i start my car early and make my way through the quiet streets although the morning rush is beginning to throb the commuters loooters winners and losers writers and bikers sinners lovers fakers are all beginning their days in their own little world and with no sounds in the red machine my mind is free to wander and take in the the majesty of creation in all its sensuous glory the green of the grass the clunk and grind of the engine beneath me happy people sad people resigned faces worked resoultly to their station the office has become the new trench our duty for queen and country for mortgage and credit and car loan for someones future but not my own boys on bikes girls in skirts ipods and iboxes and music machines everywhere clogging ears with a secret soundscape changing for how we feel changing what we see oh the beauty of music to inspire move trouble and confuse us enlighten restore but my car is silent and i arrive ready for anything anyone an

why do we settle for second best artistically when the way you look determines how many records you sell the cover of your book the story of your life is more important than the story itself some silly la la la chorus supposed to mean more than words which touch the heart things are backwards don't ya think me freends? last night the golden boy on the musical merry go round was out he couldn't have looked happier actually perhaps he was just relieved it was over and he could back to writing n singing n making and hanging out with his mrs living the life today on the radio he said he was glad to be out of it too much showbiz too much oh la la too much wham bam thankyou ma'am the star making machine was not him a musician he is not a performing monkey nice to see an afro with integrity and a bit of depth so even though he was out of this daggy tv show i felt a bit enthused a bit uplifted what poise that young man showed there is another way of doing things i'm not alone i

Morning my dear fiends and friends lovers and fighters new and old back at the coal face the salt mine the pit the classroom time to apply the lessons of the last few weeks keep the flame the faith the truth. find the centre the depths the mystery the cave of the heart the afternoon yesterday was beautiful long afternoon sun shining through our windows wine on the table some deep conversations laughter the littlies their usual ever changing and flitty little selves and tonight friends will gather in our house around the cooking pot and the wine bottle and we will share our days and ways thoughts plans pain petunias and the day may seem a little less bad a little less away from the ideal so we have the chance the energy the hope to face tomorrow but until then chained to the desk then a long walk and home peace on this day to you is it shining where you are?

another beautiful day in the west littlest littlie and i went to the church where mrs k does the sounds he played and i was well to be honest a bit bored that is not an easy admission to make! there was a visiting preacher who didn’t fit my apophatic disposition a bit too sure very enthusiastic about things waving his arms about like tai chi on acid although that thought wouldn’t have occurred to him no sense of beyond no mystery of god no chance of an encounter of the divine with the created a lot of words thoughts ideas manipulation exposition exegesis and all the while my mind wandering because usually when it is like this and i experience this moment i quietly slip away and read a lovely little text by the calcutta saint saviour of the poor and leprous mother teresa but the book had gone! and i looked up and down in and out round and round without luck or success and so the usual words of comfort when faced with the concrete block approach to theological belief words of contemplati

It was just another day dearest friends Another day by any standards Time with the fam a lee Time with the comm uni ty Coffee and talk And some shopping The great western consumerist pastime humanity in all its multicoloured glory Was out in force buying buying buying replacing renewing researching enhancing every cranny turning their homes into great copies of someone elses mastepiece But only a few purchases today for the k’s The essentials The organic and the wholesome And some bedding In orange Very attractive a few nice sounds on the machine And the usual mistakes mishaps missed chances and Misplacements Another day Mine and yours I got some silence in the morning As the sun was coming up deep breathing chanting quietly to myself why doesn’t that peace last the whole day why are some days better than others why is a CD perfect one time then grating the next we are complex critters we creatures of god and today I experienced it all Living Loving Breathing Experiencing See you anon

A blank screen An empty thought The possibilities are endless and Wonderful Like you Like me What fills you with hope? What fills you with joy? My passions My love You know well from this bloog And if you read this Something here is helpful to ya This week I will return to my place of employment I will rise early Spend my day away from loved ones My home Return Tired stressed worn beside my self Recuperate slightly Sleep a dreamless sleep of the dead And then begin this karmic cycle The next day There must be a better way Mammon is indeed a hard and difficult master Becoming ourselves not anyones priority Giving my littlies the best of myself Beyond our control Seeking peace Love Hope Fulfilment Joy Way down the list I worry. A lot. And in this oasis’ of peace from my daily grind I become mystic again Creative Loving And now More than ever I fear losing this once more As I return To work Something has to give We can’t do it Have it Be it all But I can have the things that matter You se

sounds around me ripples movement beginning eliza and noah already up watching that box in the corner come and sit with me kids! bring in the day in silence yes noah you can put out the candle when we're finished slowly moving didn't sleep to flash lots of processing going on need time more time last night we all gathered together one big eating drinking laughing happy family the carnage is still present a glass here a plate there no music this morning just coffee and a sit I can still feel them all here gathered together celebrating just being been us even the littlies get it now They're coming! and they bounce around the house have there own little gathering a favorite video fall asleep where they are or stumble into their beds smiling we all smile too and its not just the red we warm each others hearts i want to feel this good all the time being myself sharing without pushing loving without fear i remember us starting quietly 10 years ago not wanting to hurt offend compl

i am the wanderer the wonderer a star fish in the sky wanting to shine words on a page notes on a score waiting for life breeze which doesn’t cool incomplete searching for something else and in me burning with steam and heat desires longings half enjoying half fearing the darkness. light forcing creativity making me stronger incrementally silently healing guiding. this letting go of fearing less embracing more stopping asking how much longer? being happy being answerless being free to change my mind my views my tastes swimming more walking more eating less eating better back into my body less car less worry should I become a vegetarian should I learn to dance? I can’t let go that much you know! Taking time Slow Slow down young man! Listening To the silence To music To others Believing the best Can I do this? Can I embrace the life bestowed on me For years Trying to get it right Whatever that is Doctrines dogma Devious things those d words Can lead you up the garden path out the back up

Mornin’ to ya Hows the sunlight in Your little world this morning? Do you have a sound track To ease you in? Quincy jones He of michael jackson fame (don’t hold that against him!) Brilliant arranger Master musical craftsman Hears a kind of blue each and every morning Miles. Coltrane. Slowly shifting modal harmonies Like light through dusty old windows That’s the way to start the day. Hmmmmm. Too early for those simple little rhymes! Listened to the church this morning again kilbey helps me to think in these hours but only the acoustic stuff no distortion before midday All of us up early today I couldn’t sit still for prayers So much to do So much to be and write and sing and play All that busyness! What would old saint ben say! I wrote my three morning pages though Being doing this for a while Helps clear the mind and the soul stuff comes up things I didn’t even know were hidden and some of it my friends is gold not in riches of the world i’m not turning my head into a BHP mine site!

Sitting at my kitchen bench Sunshine pouring in on a beeatifull spring day Home again There’s nothing like it Safety Of friends and family Familiar things and smell and people and routine Like a cloister Our familee cloister But I’m no abbott! Still a novice is CK Still learning the human trade About love and life and truth and what’s next But Good to be back here. After the south western whale watching book reading coffee sipping family enduring adventure Is there a lesson in this mystery in this journey within the journey Can you tell me? Here ‘tis Love. Sounds simple don’t it! Heard it before have ya? All we need is love! Those boys were only the tip of the icicle anyhow That was 40 years ago and still the love don’t run free Listen close and I’ll tell ya why Take a deep breath You ready? ITS HARD. That’s it. Tough. Work. An effort. I don’t like it. Nope. Not one bit. But that’s it. That’s my path. Maybe yours too. I chose it. Thought I knew it too. But … nope. Not today. All those

2day is sunday doing the blogging thing from a cafe in aug dust er the sun shining in the window the 7 year old watching some stuff on a screen and the mrs looking for video relics on the shelves weird to be bloogering on this day of rest tried the church thing today but like any good foreign visitor i looked a bit it didn't touch me and i'm only 4 hours from home! my little male kept asking the questions about crosses and death and why and about heart and love and we sat out side of the ritual he couldn't sit still and i just needed the peace it was a good little chat we two a little lighter a little closer and then it ended small talk of the faithful began but the space felt empty untouched all these people at prayer but i didn't feel it may be thats me may be its just today but the sun is lovely calms my heart i hate been away from home from my friends and my books my every day painful wonderful challenging stimulating little life i had to breathe deep this week cont